All Good Girls Go to Heaven
by StitchGrl
Summary: Christine chooses the grasshopper instead of the scorpion, and she shall get her reward, with a price! Morbidity Phic Contest entry. Enjoy!


**All Good Girls Go To Heaven**

"It's happening, Erik!"

They float upwards, away from the fire.

The rumbling had come from deep beneath the water, and then following that ear-shattering thunder, an _explosion!_ Suddenly, the ground was ablaze, the black water turned red, and the boat and lantern erupted into flames.

Now Christine Daae feels as if she is floating on a cloud. She feels cocooned from the heat. In fact, an invisible shell protects her and provides a soft, cool breeze. She looks over to the silent figure beside her. He seems to watch the explosion in terrorizing silence.

He keeps his eyes focused on the fire.

"We are together now." Christine almost can't believe it. She clasps her hands together in glee. "Forever."

With his eyes, Erik finds the body of the Vicomte de Chagny. They boy lies on his side, his hands clawing the ground. His fair skin, once white, now reddens, then blackens and decays. As his flesh burns, the fire cackles, laughing. Raoul was already dead; thus he does not moan. But the Persian—he is still covering his face with his olive hands, muffling his own screams. Even up here, Erik can hear daroga cry:

"Erik! Erik, _why?"_

_Why, it was not I_, Erik sighs. _It was certainly not I._

Suddenly her hands wrap around Erik's and she squeals in delight. "Look, Erik! I can be the grasshopper, and jump mighty high! I can jump high enough to escape such a cruel world. And I can take you with me!"

As she speaks, he feels them rising, higher into the clouds, far away from the burning boat that once held them so close to the ground.

Christine's smile broadens.

"We will be there very soon. I can feel it."

Erik twists his lips. "Where, Christine?"

"Paradise, Erik!" Christine lifts her two hands and cups her blushing cheeks. "Papa always said, 'When you die, my child, you will go to Paradise'. He promised Paradise would be beautiful. I can't wait for you to see."

He almost can't look at her.

She frowns.

"Why aren't you pleased?"

He mustn't stop looking at her. He sucks the image of the last clandestine eyes into his mind. He memorizes every detail of flesh: the creases, which deepened between her brows to the coarse, splitting ends of her last strand of hair.

"Why do you stare at me like that?"

He comes behind her and wraps his long, bony fingers around her tiny shoulders as she sucks in a nervous breath. He lowers his mouth to her ear as she tries to turn around into his arms. But he holds her in place, paralyzing her with her back against him.

"Don't look at me, Christine," he whispers softly. "Look downwards, and tell me what you see..."

Christine giggles, wondering if this is a game. Perhaps he is going to show her one of his wonderful tricks that always thrilled her. She looks down decidedly, feeling very wicked.

All she can make out is smoke.

"I don't see anything."

"Look harder," Erik says fiercely. "You are not looking."

As he speaks, they feel themselves floating even higher into the mist. It is nearly impossible to make out what used to be the Opera Garnier.

Still, he presses her to see. He shakes her almost violently and digs his fingers into her collarbone. Unforgivingly, it seems. She cries as she obeys, looking for whatever it is he wants so terribly for her to find.

And then she saw them.

Bodies. Bodies. Bodies of the ones who lay burning beneath them. Long bodies, short bodies, fat bodies, thin bodies. Bodies of children, bodies of old women, bodies of young gentlemen, bodies of wives, bodies of cockroaches, and bodies of mice. Bodies of ants, humans, and spiders. All of their limbs disjointed, torn, entwining, mingling, and burning. They are all dead beneath her own rising body.

Christine reacts with a shrug. She feels terrible for the ripple-effect of her decision; but what could she have done? Turn the scorpion instead and watch Raoul row away? Marry the ailing Angel who would widow at her in a few months? Then read about the wedding of how the Vicomte and his new Vicomtess are bound to live happily ever after? No, she wouldn't want that. She is the Grasshopper, and the Grasshopper jumps mighty high.

Christine turns around. "This was the only way we can be together."

"You little fool."

Suddenly, she feels herself sinking. At first, Christine thinks he was just floating a bit higher than she, but then—then when her eyes leveled at his waist, she panics.

"Erik, what is happening?"

"The dead go to Paradise, do they not?"

Christine cannot comprehend. She frantically twists her hands around Erik's waist and presses her face against his stomach. "Why am I sinking, Erik?" Where are you going?"

Her dark corpse laughs. "You're Papa never told you, Christine? Suicidal children do not go to Paradise."

With her urgent hands, she reaches upwards and clings onto both of his sleeves. But the cloud that shrouds her keeps her body pressed away from him. The force that pulls her downwards is too intense. Her fingernails pierce the material of his jacket, ripping the sleeves from his shoulders. A gold cuff link snaps off, and falls into the oblivion below them. Not giving up hope, she entwines her fingers with his and notices that, for the first time, Erik's hands are warm. Or is it her hands that are too cold?

Alas, she is being pulled strongly, and their bodies completely separate. Her hands had slid from his hands and down along his legs, until the tips of his feet. She shrieks his name with all her might, thinking he could, by magic, rise her up again. But Erik does not save her.

Instead, He laughs, and speaks:

"Enjoy 'Paradise,' Christine!"

She screams.

She sees him turn his face from her at the last moment when their eyes can meet. Whether it pains him to watch her go, or he finds it just too damn hysterical, she will never know. She watches the shadow of his long dark silhouette disappear until there is nothing left but a grey speck. She feels her body hit something hot. Suddenly, she is very cold.

Her eyes meet darkness.

_Where am I? _


End file.
